and beat upon my whorled ear,
pipe me to pastures still and be
the music I care to hear.
...So we saunter toward the Holy Land, till one day the sun shall shine more brightly than ever... shall perchance shine into our minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening light, as warm and serene and golden as on a bank-side in autumn.
Suddenly an influx of light, though it was late, filled my room. I looked out and saw that the pond was already calm and full of hope as on a summer evening, though the ice was dissolved but yesterday. There seemed to be some intelligence in the pond which responded to the unseen serenity in a distant horizon.
Read not the Times,
read the Eternities.
If a plant cannot live according to its nature, it dies; and so a human soul.
If we do not keep pace with our companions, perhaps it is because we hear a different drummer.Let us step to the music we hear, however measured or far away.
The earth is not a mere fragment of dead history, a stratum upon stratum like the leaves of a book, to be studied by biologists and antiquarians chiefly, but living poetry like the leaves of a tree, which precede flowers and fruit — not a fossil earth but a living earth.